Return
by Kirayoshi
Weird Science
[reviews]
Chapter Four
Weird Science
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"From my heart and from my hand,
Why don't people understand
My intentions?
Weird Science!
Plastic tubes and pots and pans,
Bits and pieces and
Magic from my hands will make
Weird Science!
Things we've never seen before,
Behind bolted doors
Of my own imagination
Weird Science!
Not what teacher said to do,
Making dreams come true
Living tissue born flesh
Weird Science!
Plastic tubes and pots and pans,
Bits and pieces and
Bits and pieces!"
...Oingo Boingo
"Weird Science"
========
Every time he entered the intensive care ward, he had to steel himself for the sight of the body on the gurney. How he had hurt her in life, and how he could not afford to fail her now.
The last time he saw her, she was standing on the tarmac watching his copter lift away. He didn't know if she would answer his ultimatum, but he was too scared to speak to her. He knew from the moment he forced her to chose between his life and her own that the relationship was over. And Riley Finn, the Gutless Wonder, simply couldn't face her.
Now he stood beside the gurney, observing her corpse.
Not that anyone could recognize the form and person of Buffy Summers inside the thick layer of gauze wrappings that mummified her, or the maze of tubes that snaked their way into her lifeless body. Nutrients were being forced into her to supplement her useless muscles. Protoplasm was injected into her veins to simulate heart functions. A synthetic osteoblast solution was introduced to repair her shattered bones. Miraculously, her autonomic functions--her heartbeat and her breathing--had been successfully restarted. But she was not truly alive. Not yet.
The door behind Riley opened, and a gaunt figure in a lab coat walked in. "Any change, Mr. Finn?"
"Negative, Dr. Brahams," Riley answered. "Subject is still responding to the artificial osteoblasts and the neurosurgical nanobots, but she still hasn't attained consciousness."
Dr. Brahams scowled briefly. "If only we had some of her blood on hand," he mused. "A simple transfusion may be all that is required to restore her."
"We have her blood type on file, Dr--" Riley was cut off in mid-sentence by a curt swipe of the doctor's hand.
"No, my son," he whispered in a gravelly voice. "Not her blood type, her blood. Her genetic factors may be the key to her resurrection."
Riley thought briefly. He hid his emotions from the doctor, behind a thin veneer of professionalism. Inside, he seethed. They were so close to bringing her back, but now there was no way to complete her resurrection. Unless...
It was a dangerous prospect, but perhaps... "How close do those factors have to be to work?"
"Very close," Brahams answered. "A bare minimum of 80% accuracy would be required."
Riley looked thoughtfully at the doctor. "Well, she does have a sister..."
=========
Xander and Anya had called Giles that morning, asking if they could speak to him that night. Giles was surprisingly eager to speak to him about the dream. He had to wonder if he had suffered through a similar dream. He stood before the former Watcher's front door, steeling the courage to speak to him on this matter. He leaned toward Anya and kissed her for luck.
"Hey guys," a familiar and welcome voice greeted the young man before he could knock on Giles' door. He and Anya turned and saw Willow and Tara walking toward the steps. "How are things with you?"
"Hey Wills, Tara," Xander smiled. "How are my two favorite fish without bicycles?"
"We're good," Tara said simply. She glanced at Willow, who nodded slightly. "Yeah, not too terrible." The young blond wiccan wasn't ready to tell the others of her plans to leave Sunnydale, and Willow was just as glad not to deal with that reality just yet. Whatever short time they had together was time she would cherish. "What brings you guys here, anyway?"
Xander blinked suddenly at Willow's innocent question; the same question had occurred to him regarding the two witches. "Ah, you know, just here to harass the Watcher. We don't have a major league baseball team here, so we gotta make our own fun, right?"
Willow looked at her childhood friend, her eyes calm and unreadable. "You've had a Primal Slayer dream too, huh?"
Xander sighed slightly. He knew he couldn't pull one over on his closest friend. "Yeah. You too, eh?"
"Yeah, something like that," Willow admitted. "You think Giles had one?"
"It's possible," Anya shrugged non-committally. "I guess there's only one way to find out."
Xander quietly knocked on the door, which was soon opened by a haggard looking Giles. "Oh, hello. Come in, please," he ushered the younger people into his home. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for something to drink?"
"Decaffeinated tea, please," Anya said brightly as she cuddled next to Xander on the easy chair. Willow and Tara nodded at her suggestion as they sat close to each other on the couch, and Giles repaired to the kitchen to fetch the tea.
"Mr. Giles," Tara asked gently as Giles returned with a tray of teacups, "when are you and Dawn going to England?"
Giles paused briefly at the question. "I'm not certain, actually, Tara. I was offered a position within the Council, and Dawn has said that she wants to leave Sunnydale. I don't really know if it's right to take her away from here so soon after all she's been through."
"Can't say I blame her," Xander admitted. "Inside of two months, she lost her entire family. Oh, that reminds me, how much trouble did Mr. Summers give you?"
"Not too much," Giles admitted. "We had a meeting of the minds."
"In other words, you bounced him off a few walls."
Giles stared hard at Xander, but didn't deny anything he had said. He simply snorted an acknowledgement. "Suffice it to say that he won't contest his late ex-wife's wishes."
"Say," Anya asked suddenly, "where's Slayer Jr. anyway?"
"Oh, Dawn's visiting some friends tonight. I told her to hurry straight home and stick to well-lit streets." He stared into his tea, as though he sought answers in its dark surface. "I'm worried about her," he admitted calmly. "She's so dead set on us moving to England, but I'm not sure that simply uprooting Dawn from the home we've both known for the last five years is the solution. Not for either of us. I wish I could talk to her more freely about her family's deaths. To get her to open up. But all I can do is let her mourn in her own way."
"And be there for her when she needs you," Tara answered solemnly.
"And we'll be there for her as well," Willow added. "We're her family too." Xander and Anya nodded silently at Willow's words.
"Aye, that you are," Giles answered, cracking a slight smile. "That we all are." He looked at the faces of his surrogate family, and the heaviness that had enveloped his heart for so long lifted, if only for a while. He sipped his Earl Grey, and changed the subject. "Now then, Xander, if I'm not wrong, you and Anya have some news to report."
Xander sputtered, almost choking on his tea. "How-how did you know?"
"I noticed that Anya had called for decaf," Giles observed. "And the way she's been surprisingly quiet this evening. Am I wrong in my assumptions, Anya?"
Anya blushed crimson as she took another draught of her tea. "No, Giles, you're not. Guys," she announced to the others, as she took Xander's hand in her own, "Xander and I are having a baby."
Willow and Tara sat quietly at Anya's words. Giles, however, rose admirably to the occasion. He walked over to Anya and grasped her hands in his. "Congratulations, my friends. Congratulations indeed."
"Yeah, Congrats guys," Willow added, embracing her long-time friend Xander while Tara gave Anya a welcoming hug. Willow even ended up hugging Anya, who received her embrace warmly. Whatever animosity they ever shared before was no longer a major concern between them. Willow was truly happy for Anya, and was glad that the former vengeance demon was part of Xander's life.
After the impromptu group hug dispersed, and they all sat down again, Giles continued, "Now then, I suppose that the announcement of your impending parenthood is not the main reason you're here." The others looked around, realizing what he was about to say. "Before you ask, yes, I know that you, Willow, and you, Xander, both had Slayer dreams. As did I. I must assume that our dreams are related in some way."
Willow looked at Xander, searching his eyes for some sign. Xander looked at his friend again, and nodded. "Yeah, something like that," Willow started. "In my dream, Tara was painting designs on my back, when--"
"Back-painting again?" Anya quipped. "What is it about you and back painting, is this a fetish with you?" Four pairs of eyes glared at Xander's fiancée. Anya suddenly shrunk back into Xander's lap, saying, "Right, private conversation stuff. Sorry."
"If I may," Willow glanced back at Anya, "anyway, then I felt something, some shift in weight, and when I looked back, I saw her. The Primal Slayer. She was crouched over me, wearing a Superman t-shirt. She took my hand, and placed it on her chest," she indicated where she had touched the phantom Slayer, over her heart. "She said something to me, 'Take this', she said, she'd be coming back for it."
"Take what?" Tara asked.
"I don't know, honey," Willow answered. "All I know is that some-- some thing entered me. Some kind of energy, a presence, a, a, oooh..." She furrowed her brow in frustration at being unable to explain her dream. "It was like a living part of her. I wish I could describe it better."
"Her soul, perhaps?" Giles suggested. "Or a part of it?"
"Yeah," Willow grabbed onto that line of reasoning quickly. "Like a piece of her soul." She smiled in realization. "Yeah, the last time I dreamed about the Primal Slayer, she took my soul from me. Maybe she's returned it?"
"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Like in my dream. She tore my heart out in the first dream. But last night, I got a look at me with my son, like ten years from now, and then she gave me a human heart."
"And in my dream," Giles nodded, "I met her at Buffy's gravestone," he paused in recollection, "where she placed her hand on my head, and I felt some sort of... of energy flow through me. She had entrusted me with a part of her, her mind I believe. She said, I had to keep it for her, that I would know when the time comes."
"Just once," Xander grumbled, "would it be too much to ask that our shared dreams not be so cryptic? Just for the novelty factor." Anya, sitting between Xander's knees, grasped his hand in sympathy.
Willow shrugged her shoulders at Xander's words. "Sounds pretty straightforward to me. I dunno, it kinda feels like a farewell message." The others sat silent at her words. "I mean it, guys. I think it was like a goodbye from Buffy, y'know? Like she was thanking us for being there, for being her support system."
Giles shook his head and smiled; was this the same timid young girl who befriended Buffy nearly five years ago? Not for the first time, he acknowledged the debt that he and the others would always owe Buffy Anne Summers. Not just for saving them, not even for giving everything she had, up to and including her life, to keep the world turning another day. But for enriching their lives, for making this disparate group of people a true family, for bringing out the best in each life she touched.
She showed a true mirror to Willow Rosenberg's soul, revealing it as the bright and beautiful thing it was. She brought her out of shadow and into the light where she would flourish.
She gave friendship to Xander Harris, whose life was sadly lacking even the most basic of human contact and taught him to love. Not just to lust, but to love. And to love himself.
She taught Rupert Giles by her own example to think for himself, not to merely repeat for rote the tired doctrine of the Watchers Council. She showed him that it was good to say 'no' to the ones in charge.
"Soul, heart and mind," Giles intoned aloud, not caring if the others were listening. "I don't care what the vision in the desert revealed to you, Buffy, you were wrong. Death was not your gift. Your heart, your soul, your mind, these were your gifts. You were your gift, to us and to the world."
"A-smeggin'-men!" Xander replied emphatically, as he raised his teacup. "To Buffy Summers. She didn't just save our lives, she made them worth saving."
"To Buffy," the others chorused. They sat together in silence for ten seconds. Somehow, the silent memory of their parted friend -- sister, daughter, beloved -- seemed appropriate.
The chime of a doorbell broke the silence. Giles answered the door, and was met by someone he hadn't expected to see, nor did he particularly wish to see him again.
Nevertheless, he was British, which meant he was genetically disposed to politeness. "Graham," Giles greeted the young man who rang his doorbell. "Do come in, please. Would you care for some tea?"
"Sorry, Giles," the blond soldier waived his offer. "I'm not here on a social call." He saw the other Scoobs gathered in Giles' living room. "I'm glad you're all here, you need to know this."
"What's the deal, khaki boy?" Xander glowered at Graham. He still didn't trust anyone with a military rank.
"It's about the Initiative," Graham said plainly. "They've regrouped, back in their old bunker. They're trying to restart the ADAM project."
Giles did a double take as the news registered. "Dear lord," he muttered, "those fools aren't trying to rebuild that modern Frankenstein, are they?"
"Worse than that," Graham answered. "If I'm right, they're going to use Buffy's body for the new ADAM soldier." The others fell into shocked silence at these words. Xander's grip tightened to the point where he broke the teacup he was holding with one bare hand. Willow gasped and Tara instinctively took her hand, desperate to sooth her beloved.
"How? How is this possible?" Giles barked tonelessly, and the others felt a terrible dread at his voice; Ripper was coming out to play.
"Near as I can figure, someone from the Initiative was able to replace her corpse with a dummy, or a cosmetically altered corpse of someone else, just before the funeral. They have her body now, and are planning to use it. And I'm afraid that Riley Finn's a part of the whole thing."
As Willow weighed the soldier's news, a terrible image came to her mind; a cold steel table, shiny, shiny tools with so sharp edges. A single light shining directly from above at the figure underneath a sterile white sheet. The sheet being cast aside to reveal the naked corpse underneath, treated with none of the respect it is due as white dressed monsters poke and prod, cut and violate. Buffy, her friend, her truest, closest friend, turned into so much raw material. Circuitry snaking around her body, connecting her to gunmetal grey weaponry.
Willow wasn't aware that she was hyperventilating until she felt the rim of a plastic bag that someone had fetched from Giles' kitchen around her mouth. "Here, honey, try to breath slowly," she could hear Tara's voice from the fog of her mind, as she started to recover from her dizzy spell. "That's it, Willow, calm slow breaths."
As Willow was regaining her equilibrium, Giles was questioning Graham further; "You said that Riley was part of this...this abomination."
"He went AWOL a couple of weeks ago," Graham explained, "along with several other officers who were with the Initiative originally. I've been sent to investigate, and if possible to apprehend Lieutenant Finn. If what I fear is true, I'm to signal my superior in Los Angeles, and she'll send in the troops to close it down. But I need your help, all of you, to stop Riley, and bring him in." He straightened himself up, and faced the others. "May I count on your cooperation?"
Silence for a moment. Then Willow, speaking for the others, said simply; "Hell yeah!"
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She knew that she should have stuck to the well-lit main streets, but the sun was still up. She thought she could cut across Whetherly Park quickly and make it back to Giles' place before sundown. But she had lost track of time with her friends at the mall, and the sun was already halfway down the horizon. She ran faster, hoping that she wouldn't be accosted by vamps, but ready to deal with them if necessary.
Dawn knew that Giles would be angry with her if he learned that she had started teaching herself some fighting moves. Nothing to fancy, she figured, just enough to throw off any attackers and give her enough time to make a clean getaway. She didn't entertain any aspirations of being a Slayer; indeed, Giles had heard from the Council that no new Slayer had been called after Buffy died. But she still thought she could avoid any vamps if she had to.
A creak of branches behind her made her stop in her tracks. She stood motionless, listening for any other movements. "Ooh kay," she whispered. "Who's out there?" She perked her ears as another branch snapped, and flew out away from the snap. She ran hard, in a straight line, making her way out of the park as quickly as possible. Just get back home, she thought, just get back to Giles, before whatever's out there canUNGH!!!
She picked herself up from the sudden collision with whatever had stepped in front of her. A large figure stood before her in the semi-darkness of dusk, blocking her path. "Watch it, Fang," she shouted at the dark figure. "I don't know karate, but I know ka-razy!"
"Hey, easy, Dawnie, easy," the figure spoke, in a strangely familiar voice. Dawn blinked, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the low light. She was slowly able to make out the man's features, and gasped at her sudden recognition. "Riley?"
"Yeah, squirt, it's me," the soldier greeted her warmly. "I just got back from my assignment in Belize when I heard..." he hesitated, "...about her."
Dawn glared hard at Riley, her expression one of sour displeasure. "Yeah, well I'm still not speaking to you. You hurt her, y'know, ducking out like you did."
"I know, Dawn," he admitted quietly. "First sign of trouble, I took the coward's way out. I'm not excusing myself there. I'm just sorry that I wasn't able to make things right with Buffy before it was too late."
Dawn's expression softened as Riley spoke to her. She still didn't understand why Buffy and Riley had fallen apart so quickly, but she didn't blame Riley solely for the fallout. "But it's gonna be okay now," Riley was saying. "I'm gonna make it right between us."
Dawn looked puzzled at Riley. "What do you mean, make it right?"
Riley didn't say anything more to her. He just held her in his arms for a second. Before Dawn could ask again, she felt a sharp pinch at the base of her neck. Then, vertigo and blackness.
Riley picked up the slumped teenager and cradled her gently as he carried her to the waiting vehicle. He still didn't feel comfortable about this, kidnapping an innocent young girl for her blood. Right about then he felt as low as the vampires he used to hunt.
He dismissed these thoughts quickly, his military training taking over. There was an eternal war between the Light and the Dark. And in every war, both sides took on heavy casualties. And if Dawn Summers had to give up her life in order to restore a weapon that would spell the difference between victory and damnation in this war, then so be it.
Riley drove the unconscious girl back to Initiative Headquarters, a grim determination in his eyes. What he was doing was right. He could not start questioning his beliefs now. Not when he was so close to getting Buffy back.
As he drove off, he didn't notice a pair of darkened, hooded eyes, eyes that witnessed Dawn's abduction. Eyes that recognized the soldier who committed the crime. Eyes that flashed angry fire as Dawn was carted away.
"That's it, ya ponce," Spike growled. "I don't care about the soddin' chip, I'm gonna rip out your liver and stuff it down your throat before I'm through with ya! No one messes with the Niblet, not on my watch!" He pulled out a cellular and started to dial.
========
"Thanks, Spike," Graham answered. "I'll tell the others." He folded his cell-phone and faced the others. "They got Dawn," he said, leading to gasps around the room. Giles could feel that familiar burning within him, that part of himself he always called "The Ripper" straining at the leash, demanding to be set free.
"Okay," Xander intoned angrily. "What do we do now?"
"Spike's tailing the truck where Riley put Dawn," Graham said, "and he'll inform me when he finds where they took her."
"It seems to me," Giles observed, "that their old site would be the only place where they could be located safely. If they only deserted the service a couple of weeks ago, they haven't had the time to create a new headquarters, certainly not one with equipment they would require to recreate Adam."
"Good point, Giles," Graham answered. "And Spike said that the truck was heading that general direction from Whetherly Park."
"So let's saddle up, gang!" Xander announced, springing from his seat. Noticing Anya's sudden movement from her seat, he stopped her, saying, "No, Anya, not you. Not while you're pregnant."
Anya leveled a cool glare at her fiancee. "Consider yourself fortunate that I'm not a demon anymore, Xand."
"Hey," Xander defended himself, "I just don't want anything to happen to my family." He collected Anya in his arms, saying, "The Initiative were tough customers, Ahn, and if they're gonna turn Buffy into another Adam, I'd rather not have you in the line of fire. Please permit the expectant father his moment of paranoia for your safety, huh?"
Anya warmed her disposition as she usually did under Xander's ministrations. "Only if you allow me my moment as well, hon. I want you there to change the dirty diapers too, y'know."
"I'm so there," promised Xander. He looked once more in Anya's eyes, and saw her reluctant acceptance.
"Hey," Tara offered. "Why don't Anya and I hold down the fort for you guys?" Willow glanced back at Tara, her brow furrowed. "You sure about that, honey?" she asked.
"Hey, like I said last night," Tara was suddenly very interested in her hands as they lay in her lap. "You're the hero. Go get B-buffy's body back. She deserves b-better."
A few weeks before Buffy's death, Willow had noticed how the persistent stutter that Tara suffered from had faded completely. Now, two months after the terrible ordeal Glory had put her through, it was back in full force. She was afraid of losing Tara for good, to her enrollment to Berkeley, and to her old insecurities. Willow's heart went out to Tara, but the look of determination that rested in her love's eyes told her all that she needed to know. "Never should have taught you the 'Resolve Face'," Willow grumped. She gave Tara a brief hug and, her own Resolve Face in place, joined Xander, Giles and Graham.
"You ready?" she asked. The others nodded silently. "Then let's do it."
Four grim-faced and determined figures departed for the old Initiative headquarters, intent on undoing a terrible evil. To rescue the body of the last true heroine of the twentieth century, and insure that this macabre crime did not go unpunished.
One last mission. For Buffy.